Read Imperative: Volume 2, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice Online
Authors: Linda Wells
“Lizzy said that Lady Catherine, and the Viscount and Lady Gladney will probably still be in the vicinity and will attend.” Jane nodded.
“Did she not have advice for you the last time you met, Caroline? Something about your dress, as I recall.” Louisa asked slyly.
“Well done!” Bingley grinned.
“Quite!” Hurst laughed.
“Quiet, both of you.” Caroline snapped but looked pale. “Lady Catherine will be there? So her feelings towards Mrs. Darcy have
completely
turned around?”
“She did speak of her admiration for Mrs. Darcy in her letter to Collins.” Hurst noted.
Jane’s cheeks coloured and she addressed her sister. “Mr. Darcy clearly enjoys my sister’s company greatly and is pleased to show her off to his relatives, they have spent a great deal of time together. Naturally they would come to like each other with time.”
“So they have not spent all of this time honeymooning.” Hurst tilted his head to watch her. “I wonder how thrilled the Darcys are to be interrupted with guests now.”
“Knowing my friend, not at all, that is the point I was going to make.” Charles saw Jane’s frown. “Now do not take anything from that. He will be glad to welcome us, but the excitement surrounding a ball and the scores of houseguests that come with it will not be something he will embrace. Unless Darcy has undergone some great transformation in the months since we last met, I daresay he will be as taciturn as ever and more likely to be hiding in his library than socializing.”
“You cannot avoid it if you are host.” Hurst noted as the carriage lurched over a rut.
Louisa let go of the hand strap and sat up straight, “And especially with Miss Darcy on the cusp of coming out. They are sure to invite a great many young men to have a first look at her.”
“How old is she?” Jane asked.
“Sixteen, I believe.” Louisa consulted Caroline.
Caroline nodded, “And Mrs. Darcy knows very little of London, we will have to take her in hand . . .”
“I believe that Lady Matlock and her daughter Lady Cathy will be attending as well . . .” Jane said softly and Caroline again was quieted.
Bingley and Hurst smiled at each other. “Quite the guest list. It is a wonder we mere mortals are invited, oh, I forgot, we petitioned for the event in the first place.”
“But we did not ask for a ball, we only asked to visit while we looked at a few homes in the area.” Jane said with a glance towards Caroline.
“Jane, you may have written the letter to your sister, but obviously Darcy read it, and he knew what agreeing to a house party meant now that he is a married man.” Bingley laughed. “I wonder if Mrs. Darcy harkened back to Kitty’s plea at Netherfield, ‘Do hold a ball!’” He found Jane looking at him and smiled to see her blush.
“Why would you want Mr. Darcy to hold a ball?” Caroline asked.
“To find you a husband.” Hurst said pointedly. “London has failed you; this might be your last chance.”
“Nonsense, Mr. Hurst, Caroline is younger than Jane, she has a great deal of time.” Louisa patted her sister’s arm and seeing his eyebrows rise she shrugged a little. “But hopefully it will not be too long.”
“DO WE ALL HAVE OUR LISTS?” Elizabeth looked around the dining room at the three women. “Paper, ink, pens, wax, Fitzwilliam’s seal . . .” She rubbed his signet ring and prayed it would not become lost. “Well then, let us begin.”
“This is quite a production.” Susan laughed as she picked up a pen and consulting her list, began writing out an invitation to the ball. “I have never seen the like!”
“Did you never host a dinner in London?” Elizabeth asked as she began. They all had a script before them, and each lady consulted it regularly as they scratched upon the fine stationary purchased for the occasion.
“Dinners, yes, but nothing on the scale of this event. How you look so calm is a mystery to me. The most I ever hosted was a party of twenty, and thankfully the size of our table determined that.”
“I am like a duck on the pond, if I seem serene now, I assure you, my feet are paddling madly beneath the surface.” Elizabeth looked up with Georgiana’s giggle.
“Fitzwilliam should be here to step on your slippers.”
“He would like that.” She smiled fondly.
Mrs. Annesley looked around the vast dining room. “Have you determined your menu, Mrs. Darcy? With so many guests, are you serving a dinner? They cannot all fit in here.”
“Mrs. Johns, Mrs. Reynolds, and I have worked it all out and we will have three supper rooms. Fitzwilliam is adamant, if he is being forced to host a ball, then it will be the grandest event Derbyshire has seen in decades.” Her chin was lifted determinedly, but then her voice faltered, “I hope that he truly wants this, he is so unhappy with these large public events.”
“He is not being forced to do this; he wants to show you off, dear.” Susan advised her. “He has been dying to do so for a long time and at last he has the opportunity. I think that he is secretly pleased that his friend Mr. Bingley asked him to help introduce his sister to gentlemen, and I know that Lady Matlock is delighted with this extra opportunity for Lady Cathy. Fitzwilliam has the excellent excuse of serving his family by holding the ball, while taking pleasure in at last introducing Mrs. Darcy to the society you will command for the rest of your lives. The night of this ball, his chest will be puffed with pride, I have no doubt.” Elizabeth’s cheeks pinked as she realized his kisses and teasing that morning were all meant to relax her as she took on this terrifying task. Susan smiled as Elizabeth’s blush deepened, “The poor man has wanted to dance with you at a ball for ages.”
“I wish that you had been able to dance all Season.” Georgiana said apologetically, and hiding her regret, chose a new sheet to start her next invitation. “At least you danced at Matlock before the wedding.”
Susan concentrated on her letter while Elizabeth wiped her eyes, and said gently, “That was welcome, but it was not what he really wanted.”
“How do you know?” Elizabeth asked softly as she pressed the seal into the melted wax on her first invitation. “He seemed to have a good time, he laughed enough. But then, how could you not laugh, watching Richard stepping on poor Sophie’s toes?”
Georgiana looked up when she heard the smile return to her sister’s voice. “He was unlike anything I had ever seen before.”
“Richard was a bundle of nerves that night. But he
can
dance, I know, he was very smooth with me, a million years ago.” Elizabeth took a shaky breath. “Fitzwilliam said that no ball has been held at Pemberley since his mother’s death. After the mourning, a yearly dinner for the neighbours and house parties for the hunting were held, but nothing like we have planned. The closest is the harvest festival for the tenants.”
“Harding and I attended the last ball here, it was lovely. But yes, it has been a very long time. I can hear the excited buzz around the neighbourhood already as these invitations are delivered.”
“I have gone over the lists with him twice; I pray that we have left nobody out. At least I have met many of them at church and when shopping in Lambton. We will have several days of hunting, too, over the course of our families’ visit.” Elizabeth closed her eyes and smoothed her skirt with her palms before picking her pen back up. “Lord give me strength.”
“Fitzwilliam will.” Susan smiled and the women’s eyes met. “And you will have all of the ladies to support you. We want you to succeed, Elizabeth. What will you wear?”
“I have a beautiful ball gown. It is white with silver embroidery. He has never seen it. It was . . . I spoke with the modiste when we were ordering my wedding clothes in London to make something especially lovely . . .” Determinedly she returned to work. “I just hope that it still fits me.”
“Why would it not?” Georgiana asked.
“Too much shortbread.” Elizabeth said quickly and smiled. Susan’s head tilted while Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley laughed and looked at the plate sitting in the centre of the table. “I will have to walk a great deal over the next few weeks.”
“Walking may not be enough. Perhaps you will have to call in a seamstress.” Susan offered gently.
Their eyes met. “Perhaps. Time will tell.”
“I noticed Fitzwilliam’s smiles are particularly warm of late. He seems very happy.”
“I pray that he remains that way. He is a very dear man.” Elizabeth felt tears pricking her eyes again; and unconsciously touching her belly, set back to work. “I cannot wait to dance with him.”
“QUICKLY, TO YOUR LEFT!” The men raised their guns and shot in rapid succession as the grouse were frightened from the grass by the boys beating the bushes in the fields below. The dogs sent up a chorus of wails and took off to retrieve the fallen birds.
“Six, I think.” Darcy murmured as he started to reload.
“Your coveys are well-stocked.” Harding said quietly.
“Will it be just your houseguests hunting or will you invite the neighborhood?” Samuel smiled when he noticed he and Darcy finished simultaneously.
“I do not know, to invite the neighborhood means providing meals and drink, and the staff has enough on their hands with guests and the ball. They are very out of practice with this guest business. I never hosted anything beyond a fox hunt since father died, and our Christmas guests were gone in days. As enthusiastic as Mrs. Reynolds and Evans are to bring life back into the manor, I think it might be best not to test their limits too much.” He saw Harding smiling.“You agree?”
“How many footmen are being recruited from the stables for the night of the ball?”
“Eight, but hopefully it is just to stand around looking imposing. If nothing else it will force them to bathe.” Darcy smiled.
“They will be serving supper.”
“And will be glad to be mucking out the stalls again in the morning, I am sure.” Darcy stopped and admired the view. “It is a beautiful day.”
“And I am glad of the respite from Mr. Mayfield’s torture chamber.” Samuel grinned. “He wanted to go shooting, too.”
Harding nodded and looked to Darcy, “I am surprised with your invitation, frankly. I thought that you were observing the men at work, it is a fine day for it.”
“Fine for the workers, but not so much for the harvester. It has broken down ten times in so many days. If you are not stopping to sharpen the blades, then you are reaching in to dislodge some rock or mass of vegetation . . . perfection it is not. One man nearly lost a hand; he was digging inside when a horse chose that moment to shy at the sound of a distant rifle.” Darcy’s eyes closed. “I would rather not begin this with a terrible accident.”
“A man can be maimed no matter his occupation, William.” Samuel nodded towards the distant fields, “Swinging a scythe is not like playing cricket.”
“No, but I did not bring the scythe to Pemberley.” He sighed, “One bright spot comes of its failings; my fears of revolt are safe for another season, at least over this subject. The past fortnight has been very disappointing, although from my dear wife’s viewpoint, she is glad to see that my strictures on her safety have relaxed slightly . . . well, not really, but she does not know that.” He smiled at his hands.
“Is it inexperience by the workers or issues with the equipment, do you think?” Harding asked.
“Both, but I think that if the machine worked smoothly, then the harvest
would
be easier. I bought the best, but I only invested in one. I am glad that I was cautious. Obviously it is not perfected. Nothing has changed; it is only coming about slower than I hoped.”
“What does this do with the rest of your plans? They are quite ambitious?” Samuel asked curiously.
“I will go forward.” Darcy breathed in deeply. “Now is the time to begin, not years from now when we have no choice. Everything else is increasing, so my tenant farmers must employ more men to gather the extra harvest and prepare for the coming year. We have enough turnips to feed hundreds more animals.” His chin lifted, “We will grow, and Pemberley will grow with it. One day, everything will be equal and then . . .” He smiled and shrugged, “And then some new device will come along and we will be off to the races again. Am I foolish for worrying over my workers as I do?”
Harding considered the young man at his side. “No, no. Surprising, I think it is a more appropriate term. Have you heard from your peers on the subject?”
Darcy gave him a resigned smile and shrugged. “Yes, I hear them laughing at me. Their plans are quite the opposite of mine.”
“So you dig your heels in further. I think that I know what drives you, besides your inherent need to protect all that is within your sights. I believe that Georgiana’s situation is very influential upon you.”
“What do you mean? What has her situation have to do with farming?”
“Everything. You missed out identifying the signals that she was unhappy and was susceptible to negative influences, which in turn encouraged her to behave rashly in response to temptation. I think that your thoughts for securing your workforce is your attempt to squash the early signals before they erupt into the identical destructive behaviour that is being seen in the textile industry.”
Darcy laughed softly. “That is very possible.”
“That is quite a theory, Father.” Samuel admired.
Harding looked from his son to his nephew, “Perhaps, but what you cannot account for is the outside influences beyond your control. Someone will find a way to rouse them, or someone will become greedy and start imposing their desires, whether they are truly to anyone else’s benefit besides their own is another question.” His sharp gaze looked out across the Pemberley landscape as his voice softened to a whisper, “The right word whispered at the right time to a willing ear could change everything in a heartbeat.”
“So there is nothing I can do?”
Harding started from his contemplation and saw his nephew’s eyes were as sharp as his own, “I did not say that, go ahead and do your best, but do not be surprised if you become the anomaly, Darcy. This machine of yours is clearly not perfected and its flaws will need to be addressed by men who are committed to its success. Your vision that such things can and will make a change to everything that we know may be your son’s problem more so than yours . . . but your thoughts and behaviour will influence his and will prepare Pemberley and all of your holdings for the future. Hopefully your foresight will keep your people’s respect and they will always look to the Darcys as the kind ones. What will drive things here is money, not compassion. And you will have to weigh the needs of Pemberley against everything else.”